


Priest Kankri and his Matesprit Drabble

by Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot



Series: Tales From New Chicago [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Citystuck, Drabble, Home, King of the Road, Lil Green Apples, M/M, Reincarnation, Songfic, Songs by Roger Miller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot/pseuds/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot





	Priest Kankri and his Matesprit Drabble

  
  


  
[Citystuck! Priest Kankri and his Matesprit](http://beautifulrainboweyes.deviantart.com/art/Citystuck-Priest-Kankri-and-his-Matesprit-368126258) by *[beautifulrainboweyes](http://beautifulrainboweyes.deviantart.com/)

**Kankri:** Cronus, what are you working on?

**Cronus:** A couple of things.

**Kankri:** Can I hear some of it before I go?

**Cronus:** I only havwe snippets that are ready, that okay?

**Kankri:** Of course, love. You know I’d never pressure you into sharing something you weren’t ready to share. It wouldn’t be right. As an artist you’re entitled to certain—umph! *is kissed*

**Cronus:** *chuckles* I can’t share anyfin if you’re chattin’ at me, doll.

**Kankri:** *semi-goofy smile with a touch of blush*

**Cronus:** *strums guitar*

> _I’ve been a traveler most of my life; I never took a home and never took a wife; Ran away young and decided to roam; But now I’d like ta see my mama and my papa back home. Well a home; Where the river runs cold, the water tastes good, the winters ain’t cold. Home; where trees grow tall the homefires burn the whippoorwills call._
> 
> _Well I remember stories that my daddy used to tell; Yeah, my eyes would get big, his chest just would swell; I could sit for hours and listen with glee; As he’d tell of how he lived when he’s a boy like me. Home; Where trees grow tall the homefires burn the whippoorwills call._
> 
> _Now, Mama, dear Mama, do you still love your boy; After all my roamin’, can I still bring you joy; Mom, you sent a letter, got it not long ago; And you said to come home cause you’re missin’ me so. Home; Where trees grow tall the homefires burn, the whippoorwills call._

**Kankri:** *warm smiles* That reminds me of the day I first met you, when Mituna got his mind back.  
  
**Cronus:** *still strumming with a matching smile* That was my inspiration. Here’s another one about my time away from home. *changes the tune, adding a tapping noise with his shoe*

> _Trailer for sale or rent; Rooms to let fifty cents; No phone, no pool, no pets; I ain’t got no cigarettes; Ah but, two hours of pushin’ broom, buys a eight by twelve, four bit room; I’m a man of means by no means; King of the road._
> 
> _Third boxcar, midnight train; destination Becnoir Mane; Old worn suit and shoes; I don’t pay no union dues; I smoke old stogies I have found; Short but not too big around; I’m a man of means by no means; King of the Road._
> 
> _I know every engineer on every train; All of the children and all of their names; And every handout in every town; And every lock that ain’t locked when no one’s around, I sing…_
> 
> _Trailers for sale or rent; Rooms to let fifty cents; No phone, no pool, no pets; I ain’t got no cigarettes; Ah but, two hours of pushin’ broom, buys a eight by twelve, four bit room; I’m a man of means by no means; King of the road._

**Kankri:** Not anymore you are aren’t.  
  
**Cronus:** *chuckles* Maybe you’ll like this one better, then. *strums a progression, humming along for a few bars*

> _If you was a bird and I was a fish; What would we do, l guess we’d wish; For re-incarnation, re-incarnation; Wouldn’t it be a sensation; To come back too, like reincarnation._
> 
> _If l was a tree and you was a flower; What would we do, l guess we’d wait for the power; Of re-incarnation, re-incarnation; Wouldn’t it be a sensation; To come back too, like reincarnation._
> 
> _I love you, and don’t you know l always will; You’re a warm, l’m a cold; But suppose you was a rose; And l was a whip-poor-will._
> 
> _If you was a bird and I was a fish; What would we do, l guess we’d wish; For re-incarnation, re-incarnation; Wouldn’t it be a sensation; To come back too, like reincarnation._

**Cronus:** *hums the random melody again*

> _I love you, and don’t you know l always will; You’re a warm, l’m a cold; But suppose you was a rose; And l was a whip-poor-will._
> 
> _If you was a bird and I was a fish; What would we do, l guess we’d wish; For re-incarnation, re-incarnation; Wouldn’t it be a sensation; To come back too, like reincarnation._

**Cronus:** *trails off the guitar with a silly little hum, waggling his eyebrows*

**Kankri:** Oh, you! That had better not leave this apartment, it’s full of speciesist imagery. As though I would love you any less as some other creature and would have to wish to be born again before I could be with you.  
  
**Cronus:** You know you glubbin’ lovwed it, doll.

**Kankri:** *blushes* I…I…That is entirely beside the point. Now, I have to go. See you this morning.

**Cronus:** Wvait. One more? For serious this time? *pouty face*

**Kankri:** *sighs with a fond smile* Last one. Then I really will have to go, or run the risk of being late.  
  
**Cronus:** *smiles broadly, taking his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and begins picking out a soft traveling melody across the guitar*

> _And I wake up in the evenin’ with my hair down in my eyes and he says hi; And I stumble to the breakfast table while the grub’s goin’ off to school goodbye; And he reaches out and takes my hand and squeezes it and says how you feelin’ boo; And I look across at smilin’ lips that warm my heart and see my evening moon._
> 
> _And if that’s not lovin’ me; Then all I’ve got to say; Gog didn’t make little green apples and it don’t rain in Indianapolis in the summertime; And there’s no such thing as Doctor Seuss; And Skaialand and Mother Goose is no nursery rhyme; Gog didn’t make little green apples and it don’t rain in Indianapolis in the summertime; And when myself is feelin’ low I think about his face aglow and ease my mind._
> 
> _Sometimes I call him up at church, knowin’ he’s busy; And ask him if he could get away and meet me and maybe we could grab a bite to eat; And he drops what he’s doin’ and he hurries down to meet me and I’m always late; But he sits waitin’ patiently, and smiles when he first sees me cause he’s made that way._
> 
> _And if that ain’t lovin’ me, then all I’ve got to say; Gog didn’t make little green apples; And it don’t snow in Minneapolis when the winter comes; And there’s no such think as make believe, puppy dogs and autumn leaves and BB guns; Gog didn’t make little green apples and it don’t rain in Indianapolis in the summertime; And when myself is feelin’ low, I think about his face aglow, and ease my mind._

*silence reigns as the guitar dies away*  
  
**Cronus:** *looks up* Wvell?

**Kankri:** Wow… *blushes, a tear in his eye* I’m so flushed for you.  
  
**Cronus:** *stands up, and plants a sweet kiss on his matesprit’s lips* Flush you too, doll. Nowv go. You’ll be late. I’ll see you this morning. Wve’re havwing a barbeque today. Jake said he’s got a prime kill to share. So, don’t be dawvdle.

**Kankri:** Yeah… *stumbles off, somewhat dazed by the only troll that exists who can render him speechless*


End file.
